Flour Babies - Anne Fine [53]
‘My heart’s a tall ship, and high winds are near.’
Martin Simon, taking the opportunity of a trip to the lavatories to finish the last pages of The Quest for The Holy Grail, lifted his head from the words he was reading.
‘Here is the source of valour undismayed,’ he couldn’t help repeating, whispering it softly to himself. For it did seem that here in front of him was someone magically tall and strong, who walked like a knight in his aura of pure white – awesome and amazing.
Martin Simon flattened himself against the wall as Simon Martin strode past, singing.
And Mr Cartright, testily making his way along the corridor to fetch his errant pupil, heard the glorious, glorious tenor voice echoing from ceiling and walls, and fell back respectfully to let the young vision in white sail past, like a tall ship, out into his unfettered youth.
Table of Contents
Cover
About the Author
Title Page
Copyright Page
Flour babies
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